


Don't Lie To Me Because I Love You

by TRIVlAIove



Category: TMR - Fandom, The Scorch Trials, newtmas - Fandom, the death cure - Fandom, the maze runner
Genre: M/M, No smut I'm not ready for that life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRIVlAIove/pseuds/TRIVlAIove
Summary: "Shit. I was in love with him... I am in love with him. I had always been."I got inspired by the 'Don't Lie To Me' scene in The Death Cure so this is my play on how I think it should've gone and the events afterwards.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shit. I was in love with him... I am in love with him. I had always been.

"This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? The same dick?" Brenda yells, her exasperation clear in her tone.

I lean forward into my chair, fingers curling around each other to stop the tremors. I wanted to find humour in Brenda's comment and in Gally's quick "I like her," reply, but I couldn't.

I can't feel much of anything over the roaring in my ears, like waves battering at the sides of my skull. I could only feel a jealousy, wailing inside my head and pounding fists against my closed lips. It made it hard to breathe. Hard to think.

My shaking hand flies to my mouth like I might be able to physically hold back the disease I know is brewing inside me.

"What's going on?" Brenda murmurs gently to Thomas, worried speaking up might cause him to crack into a million pieces.

I look between them, from Brenda's soft expression to Thomas' lost one. I could see it all on my best friend's face, covering his skin with marker and flickering like a lightbulb behind his eyes. He still cared about her. He still thought she could come back from this - from her fucking betrayal.

He would pick her over us all. Over me.

The thought sends me falling over the edge and into a rabbit hole.

Thomas might be cracking, but I was already broken.

"What, are you afraid your little girlfriend is gonna get hurt?" I hear myself saying, watching with a sick delight as Thomas' shock is visible on his features. "This has obviously never just been about rescuing Minho," I continue, my voice rising like fire and searing Thomas' skin.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas, my ally, my friend, my... I blink at him, anger stealing my thoughts before I can finish - before I can gag the virus perched in my mouth.

I find the strength to stand and whatever expression Thomas sees on my face sends him backing up. I follow him instinctively like a predator might follow his prey.

Part of me felt the wrongness of this situation - the darkness that laced itself into my thoughts. I know I'm wrong to keep screaming or to think that Thomas was anything other than my best friend, but wherever those thoughts are I can't reach them.

I could only see darkness, slithering like a serpent beneath my skin and charging knife-shaped words out of my mouth.

"Teresa. She's the only reason Minho's even missing in the first place and now we find an opportunity to get him back and you don't want to because of her?"

Thomas' back hits a wall but I keep coming, squeezing my fists at my sides to stop them from violently shaking. I want to stop. I want to close my mouth and be done with this - with everything.

My body doesn't obey.

Maybe it's because I'm hurting and I want someone else to be too. Whatever the reason, it's a battery that won't power down. I had things to say, even if I didn't want to say them. 

"Because deep down inside you still care about her, don't you? Just admit it." I pause, noticing our proximity, noticing that if I moved forward just a hair our lips would be touching - kissing. The thought of that intimacy between us makes me pause, my breath dying in my throat. Did I want to kiss him? With a start, I realise I do. I want to close the gap between us and silence the pounding in my head. I know it will work. He's been my rock before; in the maze, in the scorch... I had relied on him to save us. To save me. 

Could he save me now?

The disease kills the question instantly.

"Newt, I-"

The flare breaks my hands free of the chains I'd held them in, slamming Thomas's shoulders into the wall.

"Don't lie to me!" I'm screaming. "Don't. Lie. To me!"

Thomas blinks at me, his mouth hanging open in surprise. I barely register the scraping of chairs behind me and Gally calling Thomas' name. I only see Thomas. His stare is so tender - worried, not for himself but for me. My lips part, although I can't seem to speak anymore. The flare had left my thoughts in tatters. Letters, words, and feelings were strewn across the floor of my mind.

I want to tell him the words swirling in my head but none of it is coherent. There are only unintelligible mumblings of a crank who just wants to be loved in return by the man he loves more than anything in the world.

The thought stops me dead. I had never admitted it to myself until now. Never even realised that I might...

The disease slinks into the back seat, disarmed by the words now ricocheting inside my skull.

Could I really be... in love... with him?

I find my focus wandering to my hands on his chest, to his eyes searching my face, and to his lips parted in a paused breath. The gentleness in his gaze makes my heart thump. How had I not noticed it before? How had I not realised that this familiar feeling in my chest was love?

All those memories of him, each one so carefully conserved, run blindly through my head. Every look. Every hug. Every smile.

Shit.

I was in love with him... I am in love with him. I had always been.

"I'm sorry, Tommy." I breathe, pulling the tremors out of the air and returning them to my fingers.

Thomas' eyes widen like he can read every thought on my face - like he sees my heart held out for him on a silver platter. Maybe he could. Maybe he was horrified with the realisation that I felt that way about him. The fear of his rejection swirls inside my stomach, and I step back just as Thomas leans forward, his focus flickering to my lips.

No. They couldn't have...

A cold starts to seep into the newly formed wedge between us, our gaze the only bridge over a raging river. Did he feel the same? Could he? The questions threw my relationship with him into a blender. 

Thomas seems to notice my turmoil and takes it upon himself to span the stream. Softly, he whispers my name and takes my hands in his. My name sounds so beautiful coming from him, I hadn't realised until now. He made it sounds like a song - like it was art. 

My head tilts forward to watch his hands. They're a shade darker than my own sickly pale skin. He had a warm tan from the scorch, almost golden. I watch, entirely enraptured, as the pads of his thumbs slide to my wrists and rub gentle circles across my skin.

If he's surprised by the raised veins he must feel there, he doesn't show it.

"Come with me." He breaths, towing me along a winding corridor and onto the roof. I don't look back at our companions. They don't even come to mind as Thomas sits me on the roof edge, his gaze never wavering from my face.

"Talk to me," he murmurs. One of his hands glides up to my waist, cradling my skin in his palm. It brings me clarity; having his hands on me is a lifeline. I can't think of anything else other than him. The virus is cast out across a vast ocean when Thomas is this close. "What's going on?"

My eyes search his. There's something so soft in them that I can't place; it's a look I've seen him give Teresa before - a look that is simultaneously delicate and intense. It's a look that roots me breathlessly to the spot and edges me closer to him. I had been so lost in it that I hadn't noticed his hand lifting until it cups my face and gently tilts me forward, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

It only lasts a second but it knocks three words straight out of my heart and flying into the open.

"I love you," I whisper suddenly, wishing that I could reel the words back into my throat. The rising fear of rejection swirls but Thomas' expression becomes impossibly softer and it cocoons my worry, storing it for another time. "I am in love with you... and I'm sorry that I took so long to realise."

I wait, my mind emptying of any thoughts except ones of him.

After a second, Thomas' lips curve upwards into a warm smile. "I love you too," he whispers. "I think I've been in love with you for a while, but I had never thought-" he licks his lips and I find my gaze falling to them as he speaks. "I had never thought until today that you might feel the same..." He squeezes my hand in apology, not aware that I was glad for the slowness of this moment. I want to savour it. I want it to last forever.

The hand left on my wrist tilts it over revealing the black lines inked under my skin. I had accepted my fate the moment I had seen them but now, watching Thomas's fingers trace the raised bruising, it's sealed. Someone else finally knows. Someone else can finally help me shoulder this weight.

"Whatever's happening to you," Thomas breaths, his voice shaking violently between us. "I want you to know that I will be there with you and that we will fight it together."

My heart melts in his palm.

I don't think about what I do next. I just fall forward clumsily and claim his lips with my own. The sound Thomas makes, an almost relieved moan, has me shaking for an entirely different reason.

His hands fall into my hair, tangling on the blonde strands and gently tugging. I practically keen in response, opening my mouth to him and deepening the kiss. It feels endless, blanketing me in a warm light and pulling me away from the darkness harbouring inside me.

I want it to go on forever, but he's the one to break the kiss, maybe realising that I would've been happy to go without breathing and to die in this spot. He catches his breath, his eyes falling to my swollen lips and mine to his. I don't want to stop. I don't ever want to not be kissing him.

With that thought in mind, I gently tilt his head to the side with my still fingers and press a soft kiss to the base of his neck. Thomas' head falls onto my shoulder with a shiver and he groans deep in his chest when I bite down hard enough to leave a mark.

The sound is music to my ears.

And when he pants, his body trembling against mine, I realise that nothing could make me happier than I am now.

If I must go, then I am happy to have had this moment on the roof, with the boy I love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing Newtmas content so please be kind about it and I'm sorry if it's messy, I wrote it at 4am.
> 
> Any comments would be greatly appreciated!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thomas," I whisper gently, worried my voice will ricochet on the church walls. "I see how you look at Teresa."
> 
> I watch his face fall into the ground, dragging his gaze down with it. He can't look at me because I'm right. Because he does still care about her in the same way he cares about me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People requested a sequel and I am a people pleaser!! I'm sorry if it's very messy x

My life, or what I could remember of it anyway, had always been a sinking ship. I had been put in the glade to wait for death, like a caged animal not knowing that they weren't bred to survive. When I had escaped, I had thought it could be over - but I was wrong. I have only continued to wait, the only difference being my knowledge. Now I know that I can not endure it - it would not be a trial that would bring my end, it would be a disease. Something with a mind of its own - something that I can't run from. It almost felt better, knowing it would not be WCKD; that I would not let it.

I knew my time on this boat was running out, the cold waters of the flare biting at my ankles. Soon I'd slip beneath the waves entirely and I was ready for it. The torture of waiting would be over.

Because waiting was just that - torture.

Knowing that you have limited days. Knowing that eventually, you will have to leave everything and everyone you love behind... it's terrifying. It's a constant fear that one day I might look at Thomas and not recognise him - to not feel my heart thundering in my chest like it did whenever he looked at me.

It was easy to see - the spread of the virus I mean. Every hour the tremors in my hands would worsen until I'd have to grip Thomas's fingers to still them. He was always there for me - a light at the end of the tunnel that didn't scare me.

Last night I had Thomas cocooned in my arms until my shakes had become earthquakes shocking him awake with a worried gasp.

He'd taken my hands in his own, just as he had on the roof and every night since, and gently unfurled my fingers.

"Breathe." He whispered, his gaze lifting to catch my own in a net. I felt comfortable when it was just the two of us. I would trust him to catch me at every fall.

As if noticing my thoughts, a gentle smile graced his lips and he'd murmured three words that sent my head into a tailspin.

"I love you."

I couldn't help the smile that he caused. I hoped that I could give him many more before I died.

"I love you too." I whispered back, my voice light despite the weights dragging at my thoughts.

His fingers entwined with mine and I dropped my head to watch, smiling softly.  Gently he'd squeezed my hands and leaned forward to press a kiss to my lips. It was so soft and slow that I couldn't stand it. I had no idea how long I would have left with him and if I only had moments I wanted to give him all of me.

I'd rolled us carefully, setting Thomas on my hips and sitting us up. He'd let out a soft mewl in surprise that set my skin on fire.

If he knew what he did to me, he'd be the smuggest boy on the planet.

With his hands in my hair and a beatific smile on his face, I realised I wanted to survive for him. I wanted to find a way off this boat.

I look at him now, staring at Teresa across the church hall with his hands wringing tightly on his lap. She was tied to a chair, staring back at him with pleading eyes.

I knew that Thomas still cared about her, she was the first love he could remember. In fact, I don't think he would've agreed to this at all if not for me - if not for my flare fuelled outburst.

I find something else to look at; Brenda sits with her elbows on the table, a permanent frown on her face. She hated Teresa more than any of us here, maybe even equally to the amount Minho hated her.

I'd like to think he'll love this plan, if we ever get to tell him about it.

Gally puts himself between Thomas and Teresa, spinning his chair round and straddling it. For once, I'm grateful for him.

"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him?" He says, leaning to block Teresa's gaze when it shifts back to Thomas. "Look at me."

A humoured laugh escapes me and, like he just remembered I was there, Thomas turns to me with a frown. It takes more effort than it should've to ignore it - to remember that Thomas wasn't mad at me, but at the situation.

I look away from him before his stare drags the flare up out of my chest.

I focus back on Brenda instead. She shuffles a pack of cards before dealing between herself and Jorge. Their relationship was always strange to me, their love being one I couldn't place. It sat somewhere between sibling love and father and daughter love. It was lovely to observe.

I dip my head back to my companions at the sound of commotion. Gally holds a scalpel and Thomas' hand lays threateningly on his arm.

A dull throb of boredom takes over me at the sight. Whatever it is, my brain doesn't want me to help.

"It doesn't matter," Teresa's saying, and her voice makes the darkness inside me flicker toward the surface. Jealousy was its trigger and Teresa being here, and Thomas protecting her, set it alight.

"Do whatever you want to me, you still won't get past the front door-"

"Yeah we know." Thomas says, cutting her off. "We're tagged." He closes the gap between them with only a few steps and drops down to her eye level. I notice how that stills her. How her gaze jumps to his lips, only a few inches from her own.

"You're gonna help us with that too." He practically whispers.

I find somewhere else to be as the flare boils over.

Jorge and Brenda slink off into the shadows for a talk the moment the scalpel is handed to Teresa. Gally's the first to get his tag removed and Frypan goes over with him, probably as a protective measure. This leaves everyone occupied except myself and Thomas.

He finds me behind the podium, my head between my knees and tears pooling on the ground beneath me. I was struggling to control my emotions these days. Everything was setting me off like I had lost a sense of what was worthy of my tears.

His hands immediately go to my cheeks and wipe cautiously at the salty water on my cheeks. Ever so gently, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my brow and I shudder visibly.

"Newt," Thomas breaths, setting himself down to the side of me. "What's wrong, love?"

Love.

I don't know why that word sends me recoiling. I don't know why something that had made me so giddy only hours ago was suddenly making me feel so bloody sick.

"Newt-"

"Thomas I-"

He nods for me, giving me the right of way.

"Thomas," I whisper gently, worried my voice will ricochet on the church walls. "I see how you look at Teresa."

I watch his face fall to the ground, dragging his gaze down with it. He can't look at me because I'm right. Because he does still care about her in the same way he cares about me.

But it's okay.

I was jealous, maddeningly so, but I wasn't selfish. The flare had found a home beneath my skin and every day I was losing more and more of myself. Sometimes I would forget the friends I'd lost and other days I'd remember them entirely different. I was struggling to keep track of what was real and what wasn't.

I knew one thing though. I knew that I loved Thomas with everything I had but I would let him go in a heartbeat if it meant that he could be happy.

"And I'm thinking... I'm thinking that I'm dying." The statement makes Thomas shudder and he folds over into my lap like a child. My hand falls to his hair automatically and begins gently playing with stray strands. "And I'm thinking that, if Teresa is what you need to be happy when I'm..." I swallow hard. Again. "Away... I would never hold it against you."

I feel his sob against my body. It's so unexpected that it makes me jump, jostling Thomas in my lap.

"No no no," I mumble, lifting him up and wiping his tears with my thumbs - doing for him what he had done for me only moments earlier.

"I said I was going to fight this with you, Newt." He cries and I gently shush him, aware that his voice is loud enough to be heard across the entire building. "Why won't you let me help you?"

"How, Thomas?" I whisper, hopelessness bleeding into my tone despite my best efforts to keep it at bay.

"Have you seen Brenda? She's okay, she's surviving." He pauses to breathe and I wait, willing to give him all the time I have left. "I don't want to be happy with Teresa, Newt. I want to be happy with you forever."

I know what's coming. I know what he's going to say next. I can see the words written in the air between us. I almost want to pluck them away, keep them in my pocket, and save them for another time.

"Be mine, Newt. Be my lover, my boyfriend, be whatever you want to be. Just be mine."

I blink through the tears and press a desperate kiss to his lips.

He doesn't notice that I choose not to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Once again any comments would be super appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could I not have recognised that face when it was in front of me? Or that voice? 
> 
> Fear swells alongside the virus. 
> 
> I was forgetting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long to post. I'm really not confident about this chapter...

I trip over my feet and into Minho's arms. He feels boiling against my own icy skin. Ever since I'd gotten the flare I'd always been so cold, like I had been buried under a sheet of snow. It was unbearable and didn’t help the already awful tremors in my fingertips.

The irony of it wasn't lost on me though - that a disease birthed by flames had a chilling bite.

"How're you feeling?" Minho asks me as he sets me down against a wall. It makes me smile, seeing him here with me even if it could mean my end.

"Terrible," I wheeze but it comes out with a gentle laugh and a smile. "It's good to see you though."

A vast understatement.

I had been so worried that I might never get to see him again - my best friend and saviour all in one. I had beaten my hands bloody after he'd been taken. No one had seen the blue of my knuckles in those passing days, but the pain of it was a constant reminder. I'd lost him and that was my vow to save him, written in my own blood.

He smiles back but it's not the same. His concern is painted red in his eyes. I try to ignore it but if it's as obvious to him as it is to me then there's nothing that can be done for me.

If we don't get to the serum, I'm going to die here.

And maybe that was okay. Maybe, now that I know my friends can be safe, I can let them go.  

A blanket of calm settles over me at the thought as Minho goes to Thomas' side. I had struggled to look at him since we'd jumped out of that window. The way he'd looked at me like he was worried I might be broken to pieces by the jump, made me sick to my stomach.

I don't want him to pity me. Anyone but him.

Fighting the urge to cough, I pull at my gloves as Gally comes over and drags me to my feet.

"Come on, you shank." He mumbles when I trip.

I bark out a laugh at that.

I'll miss Gally. He was perhaps the rudest shuck face I'd ever met but he was caring beneath it all. I'd seen the guilt in his eyes every time he'd looked at Thomas. He must remember chuck's death as vividly as I do - as vividly as we all do. I can't imagine how terrible he must feel about it.

He might've been a dick to everyone at the glade, but he had always had a soft spot for chuck. They were friends, and he'd killed him. That must leave a cavern inside your heart.

I give Gally a tired grin as Thomas scoops up my weight from him, handing his gun to Minho to cover us.

"You alright, Newt?" Thomas asks, his tone a gentle hum in my ear. Giving him the same grin I gave Gally, I nod.

I was bloody tired but I would try for him.

For a little while, anyway.

I gather all the strength I have in my legs and force myself forward. My entire upper half is supported by Thomas, my legs barely supporting themselves.

Thomas is risking us all to take me with them. His face is a painting of worry whenever he looks at me and every time I catch his eye I want to fold in on myself - to become as small as possible so that they might forget me and leave me behind. I wasn't worth their lives.

We walk for what seems like such a short time, but I realise we must've been going for a while. I had zoned out to some other place in my mind - to a dark pit that swallowed time.

"Shit!" Gally exclaims and tucks himself behind another wall. The rest of us follow suit. I use the break to remove another item of clothing like it was them that were slowing me down and not the virus.

I spare a look over my shoulder just as Thomas says, "what are they waiting for?"

There are WCKD soldiers, maybe 30 of them, lined up alongside their vehicles with arm long guns pointed at the street. It couldn't possibly be for us. We were important but we were only 4 men - boys even. One of those boys, being me, could barely stand on his own two feet. Whatever they were waiting for had them frightened.

I hear them before I see them. A thunder of boots and battle cries ricocheting in the street. It's a crowd of people holding whatever weapon they can find and launching it forward. I watch many of them fall lifeless to the ground. They were giving their lives to this cause, just as I would - as I was.

"We gotta go, we gotta go." Gally is screaming as a bomb goes off just to the left of us sending shards of glass to the ground. The shockwave of it unlocks my coughs and sends me choking on the pavement. The darkness comes up out of my chest as a thick liquid and pools in my palms. It tastes like death on my tongue.

I couldn't help but see the liquid as the disease expelling itself from its dying host. I was only a means to an end - a warm body to thrive in before it could kill me and move on.

My friends ignore it and rush to pick me up and carry me along. With Thomas and Minho helping, we were moving faster through the streets but with the rapid gunfire blurring across our paths, it was impossible to get anywhere.

Minho, noticing that we weren't covering much ground, guides us over to a building for shelter.

"Let's just-" a bomb interrupts him and we all cower away from the glass as it shakes but doesn't shatter. This place was falling apart around us.

"Let's just what, Minho?" Gally hisses, ripping off his jacket. I watch confused as he shakes it out. "We're fucked."

On his knees, Gally crawls over to me before he continues talking, and tucks his jacket over my shoulders. I hadn't even realised I had been cold or that my tremors had travelled to my shoulders.

"We need help," he says, not even waiting for my thank you. I mouth a thank you anyway, and he nods it away. "We've got to call someone."  

Thomas, having watched the exchange with glazed eyes, snaps back to life. "The walkie!" He pats himself down until he finds the small device in his back pocket and brings it to his lips. "Brenda!"

The reply is instant.

"Thomas! Where are you?" The voice crackles awfully, but it was unmistakably Brenda. I hope Frypan is with her and that they've both made it to safety. They deserve it.

Thomas looks over his shoulder at us before slinking out of earshot. Probably for my benefit. For once, anger doesn't swell, and for some reason, I find that worse.

The flare has eaten up my emotions - I was struggling to feel anything over this god damn itching inside my skull. I dread to think what would happen once it dulled and the anger was finally unrestrained.

"Brenda's coming with Jorge!" Thomas yells at us. His face is so hopeful and when he looks at me with bright eyes, it feels like a punch in the gut.

Fate was teasing him and it was cruel.

"They're going to meet us near the tunnels!" He tucks the walkie into his back pocket and pulls a handgun into his hand. I don't think he intended to but I could see his mind whirring like an engine. He needed to be doing something or this hope would tear him apart.

Gally and Minho, looking confident but still unconvinced, nod lightly and get to their feet. Just as they go to reach for me, I split their hope in two.

Cough's take over my body and leave it pounding with pain. I double over, clenching Gally's jacket between my palms and squeezing until the cuts on my knuckles split apart. The coughs refuse to stop; each one had my body convulsing over the carpet. It was starting to become hard to think over the thrum of pain in my blood.

"Come on, Newt." My friends say to me, but I don't know which one. Before my eyes, my vision blurs turning my companions into strangers.

"Newt!" I recognise that voice, the throaty sound of it is so familiar it's almost painful. "Newt, please focus on me. Look at me!"

Gently, a hand encases my own. I hadn't noticed they had been shaking so terribly until now - until someone else was trying to settle it. I suck in a breath and throw my spare hand to my throat to pull at the material there. I'm struggling to find the air to breathe. It's hard to fight off so many things at once.

"Newt look at me." That voice, dropping to a gentle hum, is so soft that it almost kills me. Softly, the hand in mine rubs small circles on my wrist with its thumb. It was my trigger. Like someone pulls a veil from my eyes, everything erupts in colour.

"Tommy?" I whisper and lean my head over to look at him. How could I not have recognised that face when it was in front of me? Or that voice?

Fear swells alongside the virus.

I was forgetting.

"Newt, you're okay. I love you. I love you." He wipes my lip with his free hand, probably cleaning the dark liquid from my skin. It's a useless effort. I feel it rising up my throat this very instant threatening to drown me.

"Tommy," I wheeze. "You've got to take the others and get to the berg." I know I'm signing my death warrant but I can't seem to find the emotion to care. "I'm not going to make it. You must see that."

I can tell the moment I say it that he doesn't see it. He thinks that we can make it - all of us. Despite the situation, despite the odds stacked so heavily against us, he thinks we can make it out of here.

I wasn't an optimist.

Thomas apparently was.

"Gally, Minho... run to Brenda get the serum and come back."

I start screaming at that. Well, I try to. Coughs take over my voice and send me sprawling to the ground once more. Thomas is quick to rub circles on my back like I was just nursing a common cold. All I can do is spare a pleading glance at Minho. He must recognise that this is madness - that it would be better to go on without me.

"We can't leave you both here." Minho is saying and I'm shaking my head. I wish I could speak through this coughing - I wish I could tell them all to take Thomas away from here. To let him live.

"It's a good idea," Gally tells him, placing his hand on the trigger of his gun. "I can cover."

This isn't what I want. I don't want them to leave Tommy behind. I can wait here alone. I can not wait at all.

There was nothing that I could do to sway their decision though. They all cared too much. It made me love and hate them.

I use all my strength to sit up and grab at Minho's hand.

"Minho," I wheeze. "Thank you... thank you-" Another cough finds it way up my throat before I can say the rest. Before I can make sure he knows exactly what I'm thanking him for.

He nods like he understands though. He must understand.

Thank you for that day in the maze and every day since.

"Just hold on a little longer." He whispers with a soft smile - I can see right through it. His smile is a goodbye.

I find the strength to smile back.

Goodbye Minho.

After a second he gets to his feet and my heart lurches in my chest. That could've been my last moment with him and it was over far too soon. I pass my gaze to Gally who gives me a small nod. His only goodbye. I wouldn't expect anything more from him and I'm grateful he doesn't pretend to be any different for me.

Two of my oldest friends disappear into the fire and I watch them go. The image of it almost too hard to digest.

There were so many colours ebbing and dying around me that it was hard to focus. And the screams of the crowd, now joined by the beat of the flare inside my skull, was hard to separate.

I would die amongst this blur.

"Newt! Newt come on!" Someone tugs my gaze to theirs. It's Thomas. I still recognise him. I still love him.

"You've got to give me everything you've got, okay?" He yells but it goes in one ear and out the other at the sight of tears on his cheeks. This isn't fair. It isn't fair that he still loves this shell.

"Tommy-" I start to say but he cuts me off.

"Newt get up!"

I push off his hands when he grabs me. I'm not ready to go. There's something that I have to say.

"Tommy listen to me!" It's the soundest my voice has been in a while and it shocks him to silence. He kneels in front of me, waiting with laboured breathing.

I pull the letter off my neck and shove it at him. Thomas had played with the necklace only the night before, with his head on my chest and my arms around him. He had no idea of its significance then.

"You have to take this!" His brow furrows and he pushes it back from me, noticing it as the goodbye it is. I don't let up. "Take it!" I'm screaming, and then I'm sobbing. I'm sobbing so much that the diseased tremors in my hands become small in comparison. "Please, Tommy. Please."

"Newt-" I cut him off by holding out the necklace farther, begging him with my body language rather than my dying voice. Reluctantly, he takes it and tucks the necklace into his top pocket. I find my focus zeroing in on the smallest bit of chain just visible above the material. That's my final stand - the note I was only going to give to him when I knew I was going to die. When I was ready to let go.

I’m ready to let go now.

Thomas wipes my tears before taking me in his arms. I feel his own tears on my shoulder as he holds me, gently trying to reassure me.

"You have to live." I murmur into his neck, barely conscious of the lack of feeling beginning to spread through my legs. "Promise me, Tommy."

His only response is to hug me tighter and to press his nose against my neck. His breaths are featherlight on my skin.

I take a deep breathe in, hoping to pluck the purity out of this moment and fix it to my blood. It doesn't make a difference.

"Tommy," I murmur, leaning back to take him in. He lets me steal the moment, despite the chaos exploding around us. We both needed this - maybe him more than me. Gently, I take his face in my palms.

"Newt," He leans into my hands, taking my wrist and squeezing kindly. "We have to go, baby."

My tears turn to ice.

Yes. We have to move. Not for me, but for Thomas. If he's to live we would have to find somewhere safer to hide.

It hurts to stand but I struggle to my feet. A whimper escapes me without my permission. I don't look to Thomas' face, afraid of the emotions I might find there.  I don't want to know what he's thinking - some burdens are too heavy to shoulder.

He's so grateful that I'm not giving up - he hasn't realised that I was ready to throw in the towel.

"This way," Thomas mumbles, dragging me into a clearing. It's just then that I feel the flare come to life. It races up my legs and through my torso in a rush, cutting my nerve endings to pieces. The shakes become convulsions as the disease wraps around my lungs and makes it impossible to breathe.

Any strength I'd had fails me and Thomas, surprised by the sudden dead weight, drops with me to the floor.

The coolness of the tiles is a relief.

"Newt," the voice sounds so distant but I just recognise it. I can place Thomas' gentle hands on my shoulders tugging me across the concrete. "Newt, get up!" I hear the sob in his tone and it chips away at the flare. I had to live for him. I had to get him to safety.

They were nice thoughts... but they were thoughts I couldn't carry out.

Thomas drops me in his lap, his own strength finally failing him. I feel the quick rise and fall of his chest as he holds me against him. He's exhausted, but he'll keep fighting for me even though all hope is lost. He's an idiot. I let my head loll against his thigh, unable to find my ability to speak. In response, his fingers slide gently into my hair softly stroking my blonde strands.

I want to tell him that I love him, but my chest heaves with the inability to breathe. I must look like a dying animal at his feet. Anyone else would've left, but Tommy wasn't just anyone.

I hope he knows how much he means to me. Even if I can't say it.

"Thomas?" The flare recognises the voice before I do. "Thomas, it's Teresa."

The disease jolts like a battery, fighting its way to the surface. I could beat it down - with Thomas so close it would be a small win.

I reach out for him with my fingers only to come up empty. I wasn't on his lap anymore. Was he even there?

The flare latches onto my insecurities, drowning out Teresa's words. I only hear her voice, winding up the virus like a toy and pulling it to its feet.

Gasping for sanity, I try to call out for Thomas - my Tommy. It was hopeless. The virus kicks me down like a peasant and sends me retreating to a pit inside my head.

My thoughts, my control, they're lost.

My disease has become a monster and it has eaten me alive.

•••••

"Newt, please!"

I blink back the darkness clouding my sight and notice my wrists aching inside someone's vice-like grip. It takes me a second to realise that I'm not in danger - that Thomas is the one that needs saving from me.

"I'm-" the words get caught in my throat - swiped away by the monster in my blood. I beat it backward enough to say, "I'm sorry, Tommy."

Thomas' gaze softens and he lifts a hand to cup my cheek. He's afraid, but not of me. He's afraid of losing me, be it to the virus or to something else. Tommy would rather die than to live without me.

I lean into his palm, my body flexing like a bowstring. Would it be so terrible to die in this moment? To leave Thomas safe and unharmed. Protected from me.

The moment the thought passes through my mind, something else answers the question. _You could take your own_ _life,_ it says to me. _You could be in control of your own end_.

I don’t have the chance to consider it. My body is stolen from me and my consciousness shatters.

 

••••

 

Pain explodes in my stomach, surprising the flare into retreating.

My entire body feels distant like I might be slipping out of reach from it. I force myself to focus on something other than the pain and my gaze latches onto the silhouette in front of me.

"Tommy?"

I only have enough time to register his paralyzed expression before darkness smothers me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again any comments would be appreciated!! Knowing that people actually enjoy my writing is really encouraging <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The pain of every heave of my stomach feels distant, like on the end of a string. The emotional pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It throbs and it stings and it burns all at once. I wish I could throw my heart up onto the floor of this tent just to make it stop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wee change of POV's!!

**Thomas**

 

I wake with a start, my body jerking up in my cot. A flash of pain blooms in my abdomen at the movement.

The moment the fogginess of sleep clears, pictures of the last city sit up in my head. They wave and jump, forcing me to pay attention. I thought trauma was meant to sit in wait, peering around the corner until it thought you could handle it? I didn’t think these memories would be sat at the forefront of my mind waiting for me to wake up.

Janson’s face glares in my memory. The crazed look in his eyes as he shot at Teresa, striking me instead. The pain of it being shot hadn’t been as I’d imagined. I had thought you were meant to feel it immediately and brightly. Instead, it took me a minute to realise that I was bleeding out onto the white tiles of the lab.

And Teresa... she had died saving me. She’d pushed me onto the berg first and that had cost her life. I blink away the image of her face in those last moments. The tears that had been brimming in her eyes as she took in my face one last time before the ground fell out from underneath her.

She's dead.

And so is Newt.

The realisation slaps me in the face. How had it not been the first thing to come to mind? The memory plays itself forward, backward, the worst seconds flipping over. Thinking about it for a second sends me falling to my knees and wrenching over the floor.

Newt is dead. I’d killed him - stabbed him and left him to bleed out on the concrete.

There was no one else to blame but myself. WCKD hadn’t killed him, neither had the flare. In the end, it had been me- my hand. I’d done that to the love of my life. In a second of panic, I’d killed him and I could never take that second back.

The pain of every heave of my stomach feels distant, like on the end of a string. The emotional pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It throbs and it stings and it burns all at once. I wish I could throw my heart up onto the floor of this tent just to make it stop.

When my stomach proves empty, I let my body slump backwards against the cot. The metal feels too cold even through the thin material of my t-shirt.

The horrors of the last city take the form of a beast in my mind. It's roaring tear my thoughts apart. I’m destroyed, in every definition of the word.

A stream of light over my skin catches my attention. It bleeds in through a crack in the door, drawing my attention away from my emotions littered across the ground.

Just ahead of me golden sand rolls in the breeze, kicking up a mist of stone. If I look hard enough I can picture Newt’s silhouette drawing me in with open arms but in a second he falls backwards and disappears into the dunes. Will I see him in everything? Will he always be with me but not in the way I want?

Holding back a sob, I force my gaze away from the sand, focusing instead on the ocean glittering in the sunlight. Part of me wants to go to the water and let it drag me into the dark.

Maybe I could see him then. Maybe this pain would die along with me.

I take a breath through my nose to hold back a thunderstorm of tears. I wasn’t ready to cry. Not yet. Not when my friends deserve an explanation that didn’t make them pity me. I deserve to be blamed for this. I deserve to be hated.

It’s a struggle to get to my feet with the pain weighing down my shoulders. I drop my head when I exit the tent, not feeling worthy of the sunlight on my skin. Killing the love of your life must leave a stain on your heart - like a shadow that even appears in the dark.

“Thomas?” I blink into the daylight. I hadn’t been paying attention to my path, instead deciding to follow the sounds. It was better than looking up at a world without Newt in it. I needed time to digest that he wouldn’t be stood by me or there to hold me when it all got too much.

Minho’s silhouette takes form in front of me. He doesn’t smile at me as he approaches, his gaze is solemn - thoughtful.

I register the others too. Brenda, Jorge, Fry, Gally, & the rest of our untimely group approach with an unusual timidness. Did they think I was going to snap in half under their scrutiny? It would be a fair assumption.

“Minho, I-“

He bundles me into a hug. For a moment I freeze in surprise before tucking myself into him and wrapping my arms around his back. I dare to let myself feel comforted by it - not that I deserve it.

Over his shoulder, my friends smile at me. Had they all forgiven me before I had the chance to apologise?

I catch Gally’s eye, expecting him to at least show an inch of malice. I don’t find it. Instead, his face is one of an almost proud acknowledgement. What was happening?

“Minho I don’t understand-“

He peels me off him and takes me by the shoulders. The look in his eyes is a reflection of everyone else’s - grateful, excited & kind.

It makes me feel slightly sick.

“You’ve got a few bruises on you, greenie,” he comments and I actually let out a crazed laugh. Minho’s lips extend downwards in a frown at the sound.

“I-“ I trip over my own words, not really wanting to say it out loud. “I stabbed Newt and the first thing you say to me is that I’ve got a few bruises?”

His eyebrows furrow, with a baffled expression. “Well, you do?”

I push him off me but I don’t put much effort into it though. He could’ve held on but he chooses to let me sink back and find my own space. They must’ve been warned I would be like this; Whoever had wrapped me in this gauze probably gave them a rundown of my possible mental state when I woke up. Distraught and very clearly distressed.

“I doubt Newt will mind that ya stabbed him. Considering you two are together n’ all.”

The words hit a wall in my head.

“Considering we’re together?” I repeat, sharing a look with fry who had since stepped up beside Minho. Fry gives me a soft, almost excited, smile.

“I mean, ‘Newt, you’re okay, I love you,’” Minho continues, mirroring Fry’s growing grin. “If you were trying to keep it a secret, you were terrible at it.”

He’s just saying words. Talking but making no sense at all inside my head. Could Newt be… I don’t let myself finish the thought. The seed of hope that blooms in my stomach pauses in its growth. I had to be sure. Someone had to say it out loud.

I chose my next words carefully, ready to be torn apart. “Where is he?”

The petals beneath my skin flutter, waiting.

“He was in the med tent next to you. Didn’t Aris...” whatever follows doesn’t even register.

This didn’t make sense. Not one bit of it made any sense. He’d died, I’d seen it. The light in his eyes that I’d spent every night memorising had gone out. He had died, I was sure of it.

But... I’d left him there. I hadn’t even checked if he’d had a pulse. At the sight of his blood on my hands, I’d ran half out of my mind, to find Teresa - to find the cure. I didn't know true loss until Newt had gone. Everything Teresa had said, about her mother and how she couldn’t let it happen to anyone else, suddenly made sense. Like a candle being lit for the first time. I was finally ready to give my life for humanity- for the cure.  

I’d had it on me on the berg. Where was it now?

“Thomas?” My name pulses somewhere on the edge of my consciousness. When had I fallen to my knees?

“You alright, hermano?” I find Jorge crouched in front of me, his arms spread out holding back my small crowd of friends.

“Where are my things?” My breathing runs away from me and I struggle impossibly to catch it. If Newt was alive, he needed that cure. I wouldn’t let them give it to anyone else. “The blue vile and necklace I had on me on the berg. Where is it!”

Jorge hesitates, studying me closely. I didn’t want to imagine what my friends were seeing or what they thought of me in a puddle on my knees. They’d followed me and trusted me for my strength but my weaknesses had caught up with me.

“Jorge,” my voice cracks on his name. Can he not read my desperation? Is it not flashing behind my eyes? “Please.”

Minho’s the one to answer, stepping into Jorge’s protective circle and reaching into his pockets. “I have them. I’ve been carrying them since we got here, figured you’d want them.”

In the all-seeing sunlight, the blue liquid swirls like an ocean encased in glass. Beside it, Newt’s necklace looks like a bullet in Minho’s palm. I try not to think about its significance, or how Newt had begged me with his last drops of sanity to take it from him. I blink at it, barely breathing and on the edge of a different type of tears, and lift both of them out of Minho’s grasp. His hand lingers for a moment as if he’s worried I might drop them because they burn.

I give a gentle nod to whoever wants to accept it and get to my feet. The feeling of relief makes every step feel light as I make my way to see Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all so much! As always any comments would be appreciated! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fires flicker in the darkness, pouring light onto the site. On the ocean, the scene glimmers like a second sky. Everyone looks so content. Some are laughing over their glasses of a liquid I can't name and others by the central fire dance softly to the distant strum of a guitar.  
> It was everything I had pictured our safe haven to be. It feels like a dream."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!! Ah! Thank you guys so much for your support, I hope this is a decent ending for you all <3

**Newt, 3 Days Later**

 

I wake to flickering candles and a pounding headache. The sounds of the night ebb through my tent door - quiet chatter and the crashing of waves. None of it feels familiar to me.

I sit up with a hiss as pain spreads across my abdomen. My stomach feels leaden as if I'd been beaten with a metal bat. Hesitantly I peel back my shirt with my fingers and grimace at the sight of bloody bandages.

"Careful, shank."

I jerk into my cot, head hitting a tent pole. I didn't think to check my surroundings - didn't even consider they'd shack anyone up with a crank.

"You got stabbed."

"Gally?" He sits slumped in his chair, hands wringing in his lap. "What happened? What are you doing here?"

Smiling softly as if reminded of an inside joke, he lifts his gaze to mine.

"Just came in to check on you. It's my watch." It takes me a second to realise that something about his voice sounds off - It’s low and scratchy like he was stuck in a groggy haze. I sit up slowly, careful not to jostle my head any more than necessary, and swing my legs over the side. The ground feels solid underfoot - I almost want to stand and run out into the water... until Gally continues that is.

"You - well crank you - got into a little fight with your boyfriend-"

Forgetting about myself, I jolt frantically and my head and stomach pound. "Thomas? Is he-"

"He's fine, he's just resting." Gally's eyes flicker with humour. "I swear this is the first time he’s left your side."

My eyes fall closed. Knowing that I'd beaten up my boyfriend isn't ideal, but he's okay and he’d been waiting by my side. Whether or not that was to yell at me or hold me I didn’t know but it felt… okay. Not only that but my body feels lighter than it has in months. The flare, wherever it's hiding in my body, has been beaten down for now.

The serum was working. I’d been given extra time with Thomas and maybe that made it all worth it, even if it wouldn’t last forever.

I let myself slump with relief before going to stand and find him, but something about the scene makes me pause.Gally really isn't looking like himself - his eyes look hollow and his skin has an almost sickly glow that I hadn’t noticed until now. Had he really not been sleeping? I shake out my hair awkwardly and silence fills the gap between us like cement.

For a while, it feels comfortable. After all, I have known Gally for almost as long as I could remember; yes, he'd been an asshole but he'd been family.

"Do you love Thomas?" Gally asks, his tone and gaze soft and inquisitive. Despite his usual facade, I knew he always cared about us. I don't believe that he ever would've truly wished us ill; he wanted everyone to be safe, it was clear to me whenever I'd looked at him.

"Yes." The thought of Thomas made my heart thunder in my chest like a brewing hurricane. "So much."

Gally’s lips twitch up into a smile. It betrays some of the usual sarcasm still lurking beneath whatever thoughts had him looking so... lonely.

“Do you think he forgives me?” He looks down and away from me, his gaze finding a flickering candle. I look over his features, noticing new scars on his cheekbones that I hadn’t before.

There was a lot of things Gally had done that were hard to forgive- he knew that more than anyone - but in the last city he had shown his true face. Not the witty and rude one that I had come accustomed to in the maze, another softer side. One that cared about his family and would give up his coat if one of them was feeling cold.

“Thomas might not forgive you just yet,” I murmur, shuffling forward onto the balls of my feet. “But he knows you care - and I know he cares about you too.”

I don’t know where that last part came from, but I felt it. I’d seen how Thomas had looked at Gally when he’d given me his coat - he’d been grateful. I know that doesn’t mean Thomas forgives him, but it meant something.

Gally nods tersely before sucking in a breath and getting to his feet.

“He's in our tent, the gladers share," he tells me. The gladers, once there were so many of us, but now... "Last I saw, him and Minho were arguing over beds."

"What?" I laugh.

"I know." Gally smiles up at the ceiling recalling the memory. I could see that Gally was fond of Thomas - of his strength and ability to stand up for himself. And Thomas? Maybe he won’t ever admit it, but I was sure part of him was in awe of Gally. The way he'd stayed himself despite the world falling apart around us was incredible.

Gally reaches over me for the oil lamp, giving me a small smile as he says, "come on, I'll take you."

I stand up on unsteady feet. How long had I been lying on this cot? Rather than guess  I turn to Gally and ask, reaching for a jacket draped over the chair. It was my jacket - not the WCKD one I'd adopted but the one I'd been given at the right arm. I had thought it had been lost.

"About a week." He grimaces at the surprise on my face. "Yeah, you've been asleep for a while, shank."

"And Thomas?"

Gally gives me a once over before he speaks. A part of me knows it's because he's unsure if it was his story to tell. "Four days."

Four days? What had I done to him when I was a crank?

"He's been glued to your side since he woke up."

That was a small relief. Whatever I'd done he clearly wasn't holding it against me.

I let Gally guide me out into the night. Fires flicker in the darkness, pouring light onto the site. On the ocean, the scene glimmers like a second sky. Everyone looks so content. Some are laughing over their glasses of a liquid I can't name and others by the central fire dance softly to the distant strum of a guitar.

It was everything I had pictured our safe haven to be. It feels like a dream.

"This way," Gally calls. Blinking, I drag my stare away towards my friend. He's a few steps ahead making for a shallow staircase. The wooden boards creak underfoot, steady but unskillful.

"Listen," Gally begins, turning back to let me catch up. "I haven't told you everything about the last city. Thomas-" he clicks his tongue to fill the gap. "Thomas deserves the right to explain himself."

My brows furrow of their own accord. "What do you mean?"

"Just..." he tuts and runs a hand over his face. I can tell he doesn't want to be the one to elaborate and it irks me slightly. I do my best not to hold it against him. "Just wait. He'll tell you."

Seeing Gally's expression and noting his unease, I let it drop with a nod. His relief is palpable.

Eventually, Gally comes to a stop and I give our new home a once-over. I didn't really think a tent was the right description of it. There was a roof, yes, but only one wall to hold back the sea winds. It looked quite inviting in an odd way. After spending so long trapped behind walls, it would be a welcome change to always see the horizon.

The gladers were all asleep on beds and hammocks overlapping to make room. Jorge and Brenda were also with them, now considered gladers at heart.

"Newt?"

My thoughts drop into my stomach at the sight of him. His brown hair is dishevelled, odd strands falling over his tired eyes. Under the lamp, I see a small bruise on his jaw and wince.

"Is that you?" His voice is barely a whisper, but it's booming inside my head.

"Yes. Thomas I-" Gally shoves the lamp into one of my hands before taking leave to his hammock. I watch him go with trepidation. Here wasn't the place for this conversation with Thomas. "Can we go... somewhere?"

Thomas' gaze is almost dreamlike as he sits up in his cot and pulls on his boots. I notice they're the same stolen boots from the WCKD uniform but try to force the thoughts it dregs up away.

The moment he's within reach, I grab his arm. I needed to touch him. Not necessarily intimately, but I just need to hold him. Everything seems too good to be true but Tommy... he's real. He's with me.

Smiling, Thomas takes my hand in his own and warmth shoots up my arm. "Come with me."

In a daze, I let him tow me toward the sand. He follows the water's edge, away from the bustle of people playing in the waves.

When we're far enough away that the voices in the distance are only hum's, Thomas motions for us to sit in the sand. Immediately Tommy tucks himself into my side, his arms going around my waist.

I try to hold back a wince when his hand presses on my stomach but my body can’t help but tense. Thomas recoils immediately leaving my side cold.

"Shit, I'm sorry-"

"It's fine, it's fine. Please just-" I pull him toward me gently and after a brief hesitation, he leans back into me. This time he's careful to rest his arm on my lap. His fingers lock at my side, trapping me in his arms. I was content with never escaping.

We sit like this for a while, watching the waves roll in with the changing tides. Thomas' head rests on my shoulder and my hand sits on his hip gently tracing small shapes on his skin. After a while, I break the silence. Perhaps it's because I'm scared this is a dream and I need to live it before it turns to mist.

"I'm sorry," I say, and Thomas lifts his head to lock eyes with mine. His brows are furrowed and his gaze is tinged with confusion; of course, he didn't think I had anything to be sorry for... but there are things Thomas didn't know. Things that I couldn’t help but feel guilty for. "I gave up in the last city. I was ready to die but I know now that I should've tried harder for you."

"Newt-"

I keep babbling, afraid that he might abandon me for my idiocy the moment I finish talking. "You didn't give up on me, not once, and I was so selfish. I am so sorry-"

"Newt." I had torn my gaze from him to the ocean, but something about his voice coaxes it back to him. Thomas' face looks... guilty?

"Newt-" he pauses to take a breath. "I tried to kill you." The words come out of his mouth in pieces, like they are barbed wire trapped in his throat.

My hand freezes on his shirt. "What?"

"You were... God, Newt..." he sits up, dragging himself away from me to stand. Somehow that makes it worse - not being able to touch him made my heart hurt. His hand in mine has always been a lifeline. 

Thomas looks me over, his hands shaking at his sides. I look away to his feet, to the WCKD boots, and hold my breath as everything flies from his mouth in a rush. "You were looking at me but you didn't- you didn't see me. You had that knife and you were fucking coming for me and I panicked. I panicked and I-"

His voice falls apart and so does he. He collapses into the sand, his body erupting into shaking sobs. "I've never felt pain like that in my life," he whispers amongst the tears. I shuffle over on my knees and take his head into my lap. "I love you so fucking much and when I saw you lying there I-"

"Shh." I murmur, stroking my fingers idly through his hair. This scene was so familiar- everything about it reminded me of that moment in the church. I had thought those few minutes might've been some of our last.

"I lost it, Newt." He cries. "I went back to WCKD. I didn't even check to see if you were alive. I just ran and fucking left you there."

My mouth turns to sandpaper. Anything I might've wanted to say in response is trapped in my throat. He went to WCKD because he gave up. He was going to cut off the head of the snake even if it meant being poisoned.

It had been reckless but what could I say to him when I had been ready to give it all up for Minho. 

"And Teresa-" he chokes on her name. For once the jealousy doesn't even flicker, the flare having used up every drop of that emotion leaving a welcome cavern. "She died. Saving me."

Teresa's dead? My fingers still in his hair as an unfamiliar emotion curls in my head. What is it? There isn't any recognisable grief, not like when I had lost my friends, but I feet sorry for Thomas. Maybe that means that I am grieving but not for Teresa, more for what Thomas had lost. Above that emotion though, I felt gratitude. 

She had saved him - my Tommy.

"Newt-" he sobs on my name, curling up on his side. "Please say something."

I blink my body back to life, my hand resuming it’s comforting strokes through Thomas’ hair. I hadn’t realised that I’d been quiet for so long.  Softly, I whisper, "thank you, Tommy."

His sobs turn to sniffles and then to silence. "What?"

"I know how hard that must've been but even if I'd died, but you would've saved me, Tommy... and for that I'm grateful." I give him a reassuring smile.

“Newt,” he breathes, and his eyes flicker with the battle brewing inside his head. He doesn’t want to believe that I might forgive him, just in case it turned out to be a figment of his imagination. It was real though, and his uncertainty made me love him even more than I already do.

“Tommy, I love you.” I murmur, lifting him to a sitting position with gentle hands. “And whatever time I have left, I want to spend with you.”

Something about what I said makes his eyes glimmer and for the first time since I’ve known him, I can’t decipher that look. There were too many emotions swirling in his gaze.

“We have forever, Newt.” He murmurs after a short while.

My brows furrow. I’d known from the moment we set out for the serum that it would only delay the inevitable. Brenda knew it too. From the second we got infected we were living on borrowed time. Did he not remember?

At my expression, Thomas shuffles forward until our knees touch. It’s clear that whatever he has to say, it’s to stay between us. I try not to shiver at the touch, I really do. “Teresa she- do you remember what she said at WCKD, about my blood?”

I can vaguely recall the memory. I’d quietly been slipping in and out of myself - taking silent moments to still my thoughts and find clarity. Their entire conversation up until Thomas took his mask off was just sounds to me.

Thomas looks hopeful and part of me feels terrible when I say, “I don’t think so...”

Hastily, he takes my hands in his. The ever-changing speed and direction of this discussion is making me dizzy. “She said Brenda shouldn’t have been alive. That there was something about my blood she didn’t understand.”

My mouth opens and closes. I didn’t have a response.

“Newt,” he whispers, checking over his shoulder before leaning in. “My blood is the cure. That’s why I went back to WCKD.”

What?

“Brenda’s cured because of my blood and-“ he pauses, a smile spreading across his cheeks in reaction to the no doubt shocked expression on my face. “You’re cured too.”

My brain empties of all my thoughts except one: I’m cured.

I’m going to live. I’m going to grow old and die when I’m ready. I’m going to be able to spend every day with Thomas - forever. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet,” Thomas whispers, lifting his palm to my cheek. “That overwhelmed, huh?” A golden grin erupts across his face and his eyes beam like stars. Whenever he’d looked at me like that in the past, I’d had the overwhelming urge to kiss him; today was no different. I want to hold him in my arms until the sun rises and kiss him until I can’t breathe.

The corners of my mouth lift in a matching smile. “You’re the most reckless man I’ve ever met,” are the first words that come to my head; I feel water on my cheeks - complete and overwhelming tears of joy. “I love you so much,” I murmur, leaning my forehead against his in the moonlight. 

“Are you sure?” Despite the smile on his face, I sense his unease like a soft touch. It makes me want to kiss him, so I do, gently leaning him down into the damp sand. He squeals beneath me, smiling against my mouth.

I pull away enough to murmur, “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” I pause to kiss him again quickly, relishing in the annoyed whine he releases when I pull away. “Boyfriend.”

His eyes get impossibly brighter at the sound of that. “Well boyfriend,” he murmurs, and I can feel his heart beating wildly against our flushed chests. I want nothing more than to have this moment on repeat forever. My boyfriend, with flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and a grin he only saves for me… I was the luckiest person on the planet. “I love you too,” Thomas eventually finishes, leaning up to press a kiss to my jawline.

I take his face in my hands, peppering kisses across his cheeks. 

Maybe I could have this moment on repeat forever but in a million different ways. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this at the beginning but here it is again; thank you so much for your support!! This is my first fic so it's been really nice to see that people like it! 
> 
> As per usual, any comments would be greatly appreciated!!! <3


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